


Seven Thirty

by AnnaSayre



Series: Destiel Ficlets [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, I don't even know what this is ok, Like, M/M, and dean is a little shit, fluffy fluff, in which Cas is a barista, what even is the ending tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 16:34:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4270314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaSayre/pseuds/AnnaSayre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Cas is a barista and Dean is consistent with everything except his coffee order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seven Thirty

"Hey," Cas looked up from wiping down a machine and Carson caught his eye, indicating the line behind the counter that had lengthened since Cas had stepped away from the register. "Look who's here."

Castiel wiped his hands on a dry towel and looked at the clock before directing his attention to the customers. It was seven thirty and sure enough, standing at the back of the line behind an anxious looking businessman and a pair of teenagers, there was Dean. Of course Cas only knew his name because he took the man's coffee order every morning. At seven thirty. Like clockwork.

Jenny had taken over the register as he'd restocked and cleaned but once she was through with the too-giggly blondes, Cas tapped her on the shoulder. "I got this one, why don't you have Carson show you how to do some art?" The trainee beamed excitedly and from where he was currently mixing a hot chocolate; Carson glared at Castiel.

Cas turned to the next customer. "Good morning." It was weird, being all formal and professional to a guy he knew but didn't really know. Dean was a regular; had been for the past two months, and Castiel felt like he simultaneously knew everything and nothing about the guy.

He knew that on weekdays, Dean usually wore something business-casual, a button down shirt that more than often complimented his eyes, some dark jeans and even, on a few occasions, khakis. He always looked as though he'd been awake for hours beforehand- hair neatly styled, smelling of a recent shower and nice cologne. On the weekends, however, it was like he was an entire different person. Faded band t-shirts, grease stained jeans and messy hair were an excellent look on Dean, Cas thought.

He also knew that Dean was extremely indecisive when it came to coffee. When Cas had taken his order for the very first time, he had been ready to kill Dean, it was taking so long. Now, though, they talked and laughed and opened another register in case other customers came in while Dean was deciding. Early mornings like this were pretty empty, though. They usually didn't get a rush until around nine.

This morning Dean was wearing an old Rolling Stones shirt and he actually looked alert but he also looked bothered - annoyed. He was speaking into a phone as he stepped up to the counter. "Yeah, Sammy, I got it. No... I know... Dude, I'm lookin' at it right now... Sam, I know. I'm hanging up on you now." And he did just that, sliding his phone into his back pocket with ease and giving Castiel an easy, apologetic smile.

He put a palm against the counter and leaned forward casually, "Can you tell me what the hell sounds so good about a green tea frozen whatever? Because I hear that and think it's just gonna taste like watered down nothing."

"It really isn't my choice of drink," Cas agreed, tapping his fingers against his thigh.

"Yeah, well my brother is some kinda health nut, so I'll have the biggest size you got for one of those. And then I also need..." he pulled his phone from his pocket again, tapped the screen a few times and then slid it across the counter to Cas. "I don't know what any of this means." Dean said, and Cas read the message that Dean had pulled up, translating the shorthand easily. He began scribbling on three of their largest cups, copying the orders as he spoke.

"It's a shorthand used by baristas. This one is a little different than the one we use here, but I can still read it."

Dean scoffed, "Well, Jo's always gotta do things the hard way. Couldn't just send the orders like a normal person."

Cas smiled, amused, and set the cups aside for Carson and Jenny to start on. He looked to Dean expectantly. "Are you gonna order?"

"Oh! Yeah, right. Um..." He studied the chalkboard propped up next to him, reading about the day's specials with an air of casual ease. Usually, when someone couldn't decide what they wanted, they ordered the first thing they saw, worried they were taking too long or that the person taking their order was going to get angry. Dean didn't even try to act like he knew what he wanted.

After two months, you'd think he would have discovered his favorite preferred coffee order by now. But nope. Every morning it was the exact same. Cas couldn't really say he minded the consistency.

Dean turned his smile to Castiel, "What do you think is a good one for today?"

Cas looked out the window thoughtfully, trying to think of a drink Dean had yet to try. "How crazy are you about caramel?"

"Are you kidding me? Mixed with a little sea salt, surrounded by some dark chocolate, it's right up there with bacon cheeseburgers on my list."

"Hot or cold?"

Dean shrugged, making a 'whatever' motion with his hand. "Do what you do man."

Cas nodded and got to work, making Dean's drink himself. He supposed he did the same thing every morning, too, because every morning he opened up the coffeehouse and busied himself with mundane tasks until seven thirty came around. And then he talked and laughed with Dean until a drink was decided. Then he made Dean's drink, ringing him up and secretly giving Dean his employee discount.

But today, Cas decided to do something different. Because dammit it's been two months and at this point he goes to sleep and wakes up thinking of emerald eyes. Because there were mornings when the only thing that got Cas out of bed was remembering Dean would be walking through the coffeehouse door in a few more hours.

So today, after Cas had mixed and poured Dean's frappe, Cas scribbled his phone number underneath the shorthand that he'd already written. He capped the drink, added whipped cream, and placed the large cup in the carry out container with the other drinks that had been waiting.

"The orders are on the cups, as usual," he informed Dean as he passed over the container. "Hopefully Joe can read the shorthand."

"Well, she works at a coffeehouse, too, so I think she'll be able to decipher it. If not, then I guess we'll just have to taste every one to find our own."

She. Alright. Cool.

Cas rang him up, gave him the discount, their hands brushed as money and receipts were exchanged. Cas smiled. Dean winked before he turned and walked out the door.

Cas went back to wiping down machines and counters, humming to himself and trying to ignore his pounding heart as well as the expectant eyes of his coworkers. "If you don't wipe that stupid look off your face I'm firing you." he threatened, keeping his back to Carson.

"C'mon, Cas. Two months. Please tell me you finally did something."

Jenny stepped forward to take an order and Cas prepared to make the drink. "I may or may not have left my phone number." He admitted, taking the cup from Jenny and scanning the words. Medium iced mocha with three shots of espresso. He started making it.

His heart was still beating ridiculously fast and he was really starting to maybe regret leaving Dean his number. Of course, Carson wasn't making him feel any better. Cas could feel his energy radiating off of him in waves and it was kind of just making him feel worse. Not to mention it was really distracting.

Thankfully, he didn't have too much time for his thoughts to dwell on anything but coffee and scones because the coffeehouse was soon slammed with people and orders. By the time the end of his shift came around, Cas had almost forgotten he'd even done anything slightly risky this morning.

Until Dean was standing behind the counter again. When Cas turned around at the sound of the bell above the door ringing, he stopped short when he saw it was Dean. He looked at the clock and almost laughed. It was seven thirty. But outside, the sun was setting instead of rising and people were making their way home.

"Dean... Hi."

"I think I have a new favorite drink," he said plainly, grinning. "And I was on my way home and thought I'd grab another one."

"Um... Yeah... Sure."

So maybe Dean hadn't seen that Cas had given him his phone number? Or maybe he thought it was just more shorthand? Cas started remaking the drink he'd made this morning, remembering effortlessly everything it contained.  
"Ya know," Dean said casually as Cas started the drink. "I've been comin' here almost two months and I have no idea what your name is." Cas bit his lip. It was true. No one wore name tags at the coffeehouse because... Well, he didn't really know why. Just because. Dean continued. "I mean, how am I supposed to put your number in my phone, when I don't even know whose it is?"

Cas almost dropped Dean's drink. He tried to stay calm because Dean was. "It's Cas." He replied conversationally, keeping his attention on making the drink. "Well, Castiel, but yeah, everyone just calls me Cas."

"Cas.. " Dean tried it out and Cas thought mildly that he rather liked the way his name sounded coming from Dean's voice. "Your shift's almost over, right?"

"I'm off now, actually."

"Do you have any plans for the night?"

"Um..." The question, for whatever reason, caught Castiel off guard. He handed over the drink before he actually dropped it this time. He could feel Carson glaring at him yet again.

"I mean, if you do, ya know, that's fine. I just thought, well Jo's mom owns this club downtown and Saturday nights are pretty great and I get free drinks. But if you don't want to that's fine..."

"No, no. I just -" Cas stopped himself. Took a breath. "No I don't have any plans. Yes. I would love to go with you." Dean grinned and Castiel's own smile widened to match.

"Awesome,"

"I should probably go home and change first..." He didn't really think khakis and a polo were appropriate clothes to wear to a club.

"Yeah, of course. I have my car so we can just-"

"Alright. Carson, are you okay with closing up?"

Carson glared at him with a look that could kill. "I've been closing longer than you have, Cas. Go away."

Cas pulled his jacket from the peg where it was hanging and shrugged it on. "Shall we?"

Dean opened the door. "After you."

Outside, the air was warm and there was a cool breeze blowing. Dean was a warm presence next to Cas, and they walked close together as Dean led the way to his car. He thought it would be awkward, riding in a car with someone he didn't really know, but conversation flowed easily and classic rock played softly behind their voices. Cas laced his fingers with Dean’s, still cold from when he’d been holding his frozen drink, and Dean smiled, continuing his story about he and his younger brother. Cas laughed and hummed along to the music, thinking that two months was well worth the wait.


End file.
